No Mere Victorian Woman
by Russell
Summary: Rachel Raines is anything but average, but when this actress matches witts with the Great Detective she is in for one adventure she could not have deduced was coming. UPDATED! Please R
1. Acquaintances

Hello everyone, this is my first fanfic and I am not really sure how it will turn out, comments and constructive criticism are wanted and I am sure needed. Thank you for at least considering reading my fanfic! Also many thanks to my twin sister and beta reader! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Disclaimer: I do not own anything, Holmes, Watson and anything that looks like it belongs to Arthur Conan Doyle probably does, I own Rachel Raines but I also must admit that I got the idea for her character from Mary Russell (If you have not read The Beekeeper's Apprentice do so immediately!) *************************************************************  
  
And now on with:  
  
No Mere Victorian Woman  
  
I slipped on my emerald dress. It brought out the hints of green in my otherwise brown eyes, or so my tailor said. I sat before the mirror and began to pile and pin my golden hair to the top of my head as I heard the distant clop of hooves on the cobble stone street outside my hotel. I despised parties, in my opinion they consisted of men and women feeding on gossip and sipping on champagne while I found them overwhelmingly dull. And yet the producer expected all of the lead actresses and actors to be there. In his words, "There's got to be some way to convince people to buy box seats." This was his solution, a large party so that the box seat holders could intermingle with the cast. I let out a long sigh in exasperation.  
  
I was not, nor ever was what you may call the average Victorian woman. I ran my own life, and had made a vow to myself that no man would ever ruin that for me. You only had one chance to live life and I was not going to be a passenger when the driver's seat was empty. My mother had always frowned upon my ways, while two of my sisters were inside learning useless arts, such as sewing, cooking and chit-chat, I was with my twin sister, outside devising or cracking puzzles and codes. My world was the realm of the mind, and I took to logic and challenges as a starving child to bread. Perhaps that is why I was destined to be an actress, on the stage the outcome of the show depended entirely on me, as it did for all the other actors and actresses.  
  
I finished adding rouge to my cheeks and looked in the mirror with an approving nod towards my appearance before I hurried down the steps of the hotel to hail a cab.  
  
"Lemme get 'at for you, mum" slurred an old cabbie as he started to clamber down from the hansom seat.  
  
"Don't bother I've got it myself" I assured him, I noticed subconsciously that my Northern Californian accent appeared at the oddest of times, you would think that after spending four years in London it would have ceased. I grabbed the door and with a glance at the watch in-took a small breath and tossed two sovereigns to the cabbie. "Drive me to princess theatre as quickly as possible!" His eyes widened at the coins, with a "yes, mum!' we were off. Gas lamps and office buildings almost became a continuous blur; I do not believe I had ever been carried so quickly in my entire life!  
  
With a nod of approval toward the cabbie I climbed out of the worn hansom and straightened my hair and skirt before opening the two large wood doors to the Princess Theatre. For the next hour I was supposed to be polite and act as a proper Victorian woman in every aspect, I viewed this as a role, and a challenging one at that.  
  
"Why Miss Rachel Raines, how are you tonight?" asked a young gentleman in his early thirties, he was tall with brunette hair plastered down to his overly large head, he looked up to me (for I was the taller) over a slightly crooked nose. I studied him. I had never seen this man before in my life, which quickly led me to the conclusion that he was a fan. He was obviously right handed as he kept his wallet in the back right pocket of his pants that were worn and showed signs of once being hemmed, he was in the lower-middle class and out of the pocket in his suit there was a telegram addresses to Mr. Taylor. This led me to believe that the tickets were given to him as a gift, perhaps from a close friend? No that didn't make sense tickets to the box seats were quite expensive and a friend, no mater how close, would not spend that type of money. That left one answer they were given to him by a wealthier family member. I noticed another brunette with the same nose and head wearing expensive designer clothing, he was perhaps 5 years older than the man standing in front of me and obviously his brother. These deductions only took me a matter of seconds before I answered him.  
  
"I am quite well thank you, how are you Mr. Taylor? I am so glad that you brother allowed you to join us this evening."  
  
As I had expected he looked at me with shock and confusion. It was always at this point that I became annoyed; to me it could not have been simpler or exceedingly obvious.  
  
"How did you-"  
  
"If you will excuse me Mr. Taylor, I must speak with the director."  
  
At that I abruptly left, I knew that I was being rude, and I was prepared for the director to erupt at me, not to mention my producer but I knew they would not fire me, I was irreplaceable, he had said so himself not a week before. I was so concentrated on my thoughts that I did not notice the tall aging man in front of me until I had literally run into him.  
  
"Excuse me" I said and then took a closer look at him, I recognized him, and he was no aging man. I had a friend, Jennifer with whom I was almost as close as my twin sister. To say that Jennifer loved Dr. Watson's novels would be an understatement. She had even gone to the extent of forcing A Study in Scarlet down my throat. To her great dismay I was not as taken to them as she was, I had found it although a bit interesting unbelievingly predictable and in my mind Watson could not have been any slower. Perhaps it was because I was simply strange, but I believe that I was not impressed simply because whatever Sherlock Holmes did never impressed me, I could picture myself if faced with the same problem reacting the same way. This man in front of me, if fake beard were removed and die washed out was the exact man from the cover of The Strand magazine. Rapidly facts flew together in my mind and I understood why this man was here, and what he was doing.  
  
"Excuse me sir I was wondering-"  
  
"Madame, I am terribly sorry but I have no time for useless, meaningless chit-chat and gossip." With a wave of his hand turned around and began to walk away. Obviously this man had no idea of the type of woman I was, but he would learn very quickly. I walked up behind him and cleared my throat and said with confidence,  
  
"Mr. Sherlock Holmes-"  
  
That had done it, his back stiffened and he turned to face me, his icy eyes filled with anger, confusion and possible a tinge of sadness pierced into me but they didn't even faze me as I straightened my shoulders and matched his glare.  
  
"I believe we need to talk." He mumbled and with one swift movement encircled my arm within his and steered me toward the exit. This night had become more interesting than I had first expected. 


	2. Met His Match

A/N: Wow!!! I halfway expected people to tell me to remove my story, as it was a disgrace to Fan fiction!! Okay I want to thank the four people who reviewed:  
  
MiChA: Thank you for being my first reviewer!  
  
Aurora Magician: I will try to correct the mistakes. I have read March Hare's Baker Street Three and I absolutely LOVE it!!  
  
Kenta Divina: Thank you for reviewing! I know it sounds Mary-Sue (and it is a bit of one) but I will try to move away from that as the story develops.  
  
QueenRat: Thank you for reviewing!  
  
Thank you for your support, I dedicate this chapter to you!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing with the exception of Rachel Raines, and even if you were to sue me I have absolutely nothing to my name (I mean it!!! I'm only an 8th grader what do you expect!)  
  
And now without further ado, Chapter two of No Mere Victorian Woman!  
  
I was shoved into a seat outside the theatre. Holmes stood above me, staring down his as if an eagle about to catch his pray.  
  
"Who are you and how do you know who I am?" he questioned with a stern voice. That piercing glare roamed over me, I'm sure he took in every detail. I felt a smile play at the edge of my lips and I began to chuckle.  
  
"What ever is so funny?" he growled, he looked as if he were about to murder me. This particular thought did not help in the least and I began to break out in uncontrollable laughter. Headlines flashed across my mind:  
  
"Giggling girl executed by eccentric Investigator"  
  
"It's just that Mr. Holmes, I view this conversation as a large waste of time. You obviously know exactly who I am and what I am doing here, as I do for you." I answered smoothly. His arms crossed across his chest as he turned away and began to speak.  
  
"Yes, you are correct I do know who you are, from your confidence and expensive clothing you are obviously an actress, a wealthy and successful one at that." He glanced in my direction, "I understand this may be a bit hard for you to fully comprehend-"  
  
"You know Mr. Holmes for a person who claims never to assume, you are quite the hypocrite." I had not intention of sitting there and being treated as if my head were full of fluff. My entire life people had treated me as if I were some porcelain doll. To them, a woman's purpose in life was to marry, clean, cook and watch children. Women had no mind, and could not maintain a logical train of thought; I could tell that this man was no exception. "You treat me as if I have no brain. I fully comprehend every word you say, I know who you are as you have undoubtedly realized-"  
  
"I also do not wish to be addressed by that name, unless you have not noticed this is not my normal apparel and while here I am-"  
  
"If you will just let me finish," I practically screamed. How could one man be so irritating and stubborn at the same time! "I know that you are going by the name Michel Holing." I stared straight at him. "I do have eyes and I can see just as well as anyone the ticket you have tucked on the inside of your coat. We have a list of the seats and the names of the people who are supposed to occupy them. All I needed to see was the ticket you bought and I instantly understood who you are and what you are doing here." Through my entire tirade Holmes had watched me with what I took to be amusement and almost wonder. It was as if he were surprised, which I suppose he was after all I knew of no other person who was able to compete with my wits and seething tongue. Sherlock Holmes had finally met his match, and much to his shock it was a woman.  
  
A/N: I know this chapter was short but I will make the next one longer, or I'll try. Next chapter I hope to introduce a little bit more of the plot. Remember I am righting this story for the readers and the plot I have is not set in stone so review and give me more ideas! Also which do you prefer, short chapters but frequent updates or longer chapters with a long time between updates. I will try to take your requests into consideration when I am writing my Fanfic. Thanks Again!!  
  
~Russell 


	3. Deductions

Hello, I'm back! Okay I'm going to try to have a short author's note this time:  
  
Reader: Thank you so much, it is because of you that I have updated so quickly!  
  
Lady Artemis: Yes I have read MREG along with the other 4 in the series!! They are SO great!!  
  
March Hare: You are my FAVORITE fanfic author and I am honored you have read my pastiche.  
  
Disclaimer: I own Nothing ACD does  
  
And now on with the LONGER chapter in No Mere Victorian Woman:  
  
"Your deductions seem sound Ms," He studied me for a second "Raines. Allow me to make some of my own. You were born in an American small costal town. Northern California I believe." I nodded "You are left handed, practical when choosing clothing, you prefer quality to brand." He sat down on the bench, his hands involuntarily steepled as he closed his eyes, deep in thought. "You are not like the rest of your gender-"  
  
"Absolutely genius" I replied my voice dripping with sarcasm.  
  
"And you seem to have mastered the talent of deduction with an accuracy that comes naturally to few."  
  
"Well Mr. Holmes or Mr. Holing, you are correct on every point. You know, we have many things in common. Both of us are, well distanced from our family and we both have minds that are superior to almost all others." I checked the silver watch around my wrist "I suppose the Yard should appear in a few moments."  
  
Holmes laughed, "Yes, you are correct."  
  
"Lestrade I presume."  
  
"But of course. I am quite sure I understand the steps of your logic but I would like to check my theory."  
  
"Certainly. Well once I recognized you for who you were I knew you must be on a case, hence the disguise. The newspaper have warned people for weeks of the escaped convict and thief, Robin Mark Mathonson and suddenly I realized a connection between that name and the name of one of the box seat ticket holders, Sam Korbin Romthan. Do you see the similarity?" I thought I saw confusion in his eyes, but in less than a second it had disappeared and was replaced with comprehension.  
  
"Ah, yes I see the letters are only rearranged. Quite simple really."  
  
"Yes, in fact my entire train of thought was quite simple."  
  
"Speaking of Mr. Mathonson or as you say, Mr. Romthan, I do have a reason for being here and it is not simply to wait for the Yard. I have to make the actual arrest, or so Lestrade said. I had solved the case anyway but he also mentioned something about how having a patrol of officers raid the building would cause chaos and havoc or some such thing. I simply believe he did not want to have to be bothered with it as he knew he would receive all the credit."  
  
"Yes," I chuckled " why do things always seem to end up that way for you?"  
  
"I suppose it is because I never fought for recognition, its not that I really care. After all I get more than enough publicity from Watson, with any more everyone would be able to see though my fake beards and wigs and then where would I be? My career as I know it would be over and I would be forced to live my life as a confirmed old bachelor in some Sussex cottage raising bees or some such thing! No thank you I am quite happy with my life as it is. Now if you will excuse me there is a convict that I must arrest-" I interrupted him as he began to stand up,  
  
"How exactly do you plan to capture Mr. Mathonson? Lestrade is correct," (for once) I muttered beneath my breath. "You can't exactly just, well arrest him in front of everyone."  
  
"I see your point. I was not if fact going to go about things in that manner. I figured I would somehow convince him to join me outside first." A thought came to me and I smiled and standing up.  
  
"Why don't you let me do this Holmes?" I was pouting and I knew it, but why did he get all the fun?  
  
"Absolutely not! Why you could mess something up, or say something wrong or well-"  
  
"Do you seriously believe," I was happy to notice that I had kept my voice calm; however every word I uttered was filled with contempt. "That I- an actress let me remind you, known world wide for her skill- would drop my mask when faced with a minor challenge?"  
  
"No, I have only known you for a few hours and I understand you will not. Very well. I place this as you say, minor challenge, in your hands- but if you are to. what is that dreadful Americanism? Screw up, I am warning you that you will be held entirely to blame."  
  
" If I were you I would not worry my mind away on this, but rather on something more probable, like making sure the Yard shows up on time?" With that said I left and headed towards those theatre doors I knew only too well.  
Authors Note: Alright, I have started the plot! Hopefully you are still interested in the story. I also want to tell you that the main plot has nothing to do with Mr. Mathonson at all he was just my way of starting it. Is that alright or should I keep him as the villain throughout the story? Please review and tell me what you want!! ~Russell 


	4. A Tipsy Arrest

Back with chap 4! Hooray!! I actually started this chapter on the same day I finished chapter three. Thank you once again to reader :) for the support and urgings to update and to March Hare, you will have to see for yourself which plot I choose as I don't want to spoil it for you or anyone who has read your review but thank you for the suggestion. MiCha, thank you I am glad you like the story and yes this is my first fic.  
  
Also I would like to apologize for my stupidity with the Mathonson/ Romthan screw up!!! I will go back to previous chapters and edit it so that it makes sense!! Thank You!!  
  
Disclaimer: ACD owns everything but Rachel Raines and the very few other characters I have created.  
  
Chapter Four of No Mere Victorian Woman:  
  
As I stepped though those old wooden doors I eased my way passed the crowds to my old friend, Jeremy. The doorman, knew everything, if Mathonson was attending tonight (and Holmes obviously thought he was) it would only be a mater of seconds before I found him. I supposed you could call him my 'Baker Street Irregular' for lack of a better term.  
  
"Excuse me, Jeremy, I was just wondering-"  
  
"You know Raines, 'at woman 'ere with the red dress, she just in'erited a fortune, am I right?" His purely cockney accent (normally concealed while working) rang clear through my ears. Previously I had always depended on Jeremy for entertainment while attending these lackluster affaires. We would sit for hours watching people, studding them and comparing notes. By watching them I knew more gossip than I could ever procure from conversation. I studied the woman he described; everything she owned was new, from her crimson dress to the heeled shoes. Her hand reached up and fiddled with the diamond ring on her right hand.  
  
"Rather married into it I should think." I answered, "Look, Jeremy I was wondering if you could do me a favor?"  
  
"Anythin', 'ow can I 'elp you?"  
  
"Would you happen to be able to point out a Mr. Romonthan for me?"  
  
"Yes I remember that man, kind of scared-like, you know what I mean. Always looking over his back, like someone was followin' 'im or somthin'."  
  
"That's the man, where is he?"  
  
"' 'ut you up to now? Oh forget it I don't think I want to know! Its that man over there." He pointed a long calloused finger at a rather short man with black hair and a mustache. I abruptly thanked Jeremy and began to walk toward him. The second before I had reached him he turned around and noticed me.  
  
"Why hello Miss. Raines what a pleasure it is to meet you at last." I reached out my arm in an attempt to shake his hand but instead of returning the gesture as I had expected he clasp my hand in his and lowered his head over it. I felt his cool lips touch my flesh and as he released my hand I fought the urge to wipe it on my dress.  
  
"The pleasure is all mine, Mr.."  
  
"Romonthan, Sam Romonthan, what a lovely gown you are wearing this evening." He was flirting with me! I couldn't believe it. Well the slime ball had guts, that was for sure, two could play at this game.  
  
"You truly think so?" I batted my eyelashes and twirled around in front of him. "It is one of my favorites."  
  
"Would you care for some champagne, or a sherry perhaps?" He turned and headed for the refreshment table.  
  
"No thank you Mr. Romonthan I am not thirsty at the moment, it is a bit warm in here is it not? Perhaps we should step outside?"  
  
"Actually, I find it quite comfortable, are you sure you wouldn't want a drink?"  
  
This wasn't going to be as simple as I had thought. How could I. yes that would work quite nicely, that is if he fell for it.  
  
"Mr. Romonthan?" He turned around and met my eyes; I did the best I could to blush. "I actually would enjoy a sherry, thank you."  
  
"Your wish is my command, Miss. Raines." He returned a few seconds later steadily carrying two glasses, a small sherry and a large brandy for himself. I quietly sipped my drink and kept up an intelligent conversation with him. His brandy depleted before I was halfway done with my sherry and he returned with another one of equal size. So my deductions were correct I mused. This process repeated itself for a while until the conversation became not quite so intelligent and his walk, anything but steady. I steered him through the crowds and every so often answered one of his comprehendible comments.  
  
"You know I escaped from jail," he stated  
  
"That's nice." I really did not feel in the mood for a conversation with a drunk  
  
"Yea, and I even shot a man once." This was better than the yard could possibly hope for, why they could get twenty confessions an hour out of this guy. By this time I had reached the doors and noticed that for perhaps the last hour I had felt a pair of eyes on me.  
  
"Holmes I think you are enjoying this a little to much." I mumbled as I gave Mathonson the final shove out the door.  
  
"Do you really think so, I believe I haven't had my share of amusement for one night yet. Granted I thoroughly enjoy seeing you push a drunk man around but it doesn't seem enough." He stated sarcastically.  
  
"Well by the time you see Lestrade's face I believe you will be content. Tonight half the crimes in Europe will have been solved." At this statement I heard Holmes chuckle.  
  
"Perhaps your right" We had now walked a few kilometers away from the theatre and surely enough I recognized the a few hansoms with yard officials mulling about. "Inspector Lestrade, I believe I have something you want." I shoved the wobbling Mr. Mathonson in his direction.  
  
"Holmes, who. Miss. Raines, the actress what are you. and what have you done to Mathonson?"  
  
"I am here to give you your criminal and I have, well persuaded him to come over a lot of brandy." The rat-faced man started to chuckle "I'm not sure Holmes could have done it better himself."  
  
"It was actually quite elementary Inspector." I shot a purposeful glance in Holmes direction.  
  
"With this task taken care of, I believe I will be going." Holmes stated. I turned and saw the retreating back of the world's greatest consulting detective.  
  
A/N: Wow done with the fourth chapter although not done with the story, should I continue? Click that box down there and tell me what you think!!  
  
~ Russell 


	5. Doldrums

All right, here is chap 5!!!  
  
No Mere Victorian Woman  
  
Days turned into weeks since the conclusion of the Mathonson case and I felt one thing, bored. I was left to lounge around my home day in and day out reading and re-reading novels and newspapers. I had determined the age, gender, and sometimes even hair color of all the reporters and authors. Countless telegrams had been exchanged between me and my sister until every puzzle was solved and we were once again lifted and dumped into the abyss of doldrums. My mind shrieked for a challenge I was aware few could provide but it lit on that arrogant, conceited, egotistical and stubborn man of a few weeks former.  
  
I stood up from my cream colored couch, crept down the steps of my flat and hailed a cab.  
  
"Baker Street" I ordered. I really had no idea why I was going there, it was as if my mouth had a mind of its own. What would I say or do? He would most certainly shoo me away as if I were an insect. The cabbie cocked an eyebrow at the mention of the street.  
  
"What business have you there?" a familiar sardonic voice drawled.  
  
"Why to see you Mr. Holmes."  
  
"And why are you so eager to consult a detective?" '  
  
"I have come." I paused, why had I come? What did I want with this man? "Are you occupied with a case at the moment." I finished I really didn't know anything else to say.  
  
"No" his voice revealed obvious disappointment.  
  
"Then perhaps I could provide a favor for both of us--" Holmes shot a glance around the cab.  
  
"Perhaps we could continue this conversation somewhere else, I do not believe it would be considered appropriate were people to notice a young lady, such as yourself, having a prolonged conversation with a penniless cabbie."  
  
"An excellent point, take me to Baker Street." I continued the act and passed a pound note into the dirty and calloused hands of my driver. Hands I couldn't help but notice were speckled by the black smears of silver nitrate.  
  
"Keeping up to date on your chemical experiments I perceive."  
  
"Mmm. Extremely careless of me," he answered with a nod towards his hands "it will be a few more days before the stains wear away."  
  
I watched the gas lamps roll by and relaxed to the thump thump of the cobblestone beneath the wheels.  
  
"'Ere we are mum, 221B Baker Street." He held out his had to assist me out of the cab and my feet touched the ground I heard a low whisper.  
  
"I'll meet you inside after I return the Hansom, I'm sure by that time Mrs. Hudson will have filled you with tea and sweets."  
  
I walkup to the door and knocked. Almost immediately a very flustered woman appeared carrying pillows, blankets, and a feather duster.  
  
"May I please speak to Mr. Holmes? "  
  
"Ahhh, Mr. Holmes why unfortunately he is not in at the moment. Perhaps if he was I could get him to clean up a little. I run the building, but I am not his maid. You can barley get in to 221B and if you do you wish you hadn't. Oh, dear, you look starved! Let me make you some tea and crumpets, or do you prefer muffins?"  
  
"Muffins, that is if it would not be too much of a hassle." I answered to the rumble of my stomach.  
  
"Why none at all, let me just show you to his room." She led me around a corner up the stairs to the apartment, pushed open the door and pointed towards a worn basket chair.  
  
"Why don't you set yourself down there and I will return with the tea in a minute." And with that she walked out of the room. I started over toward the chair, but turned. An open morocco case caught my eye. I lifted it and found it empty. Closing it I set in on the mantle.  
  
"I suppose I'm not the only one who has been bored."  
  
A/N: Done with Chapter Five!!! Next Chapter I will bring in the Mystery I promise!!! Please R&R! PLEASE I need all the help I can get.  
  
~ Russell 


	6. We have a Case

Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers!!!! I love you all!!! And a special thanks to my reviews for chapter 5:  
  
Aurora Magician: Thank you so much for reviewing again and I am glad you liked the story so far!!  
  
mariteri: I thought the word looked wrong (stupid spell-check!!!!!! *Hits computer* owww!!) Thanks I'll make the correction  
  
Es: Wow!!!! I actually have a devoted fan!!! I feel so honored!!!!  
  
By the way this chapter is dedicated to MiChA for being the first (and so far only) person to put me on her favorites list THANK YOU  
  
Anyway, thank you to everyone and now, on with... oh whoops forgot the disclaimer. I did that the other chapter too didn't I? K well....  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes, Watson or very many things for that matter, don't sue me!!!!  
  
And Now REALLY on with ...  
  
No Mere Victorian Woman  
  
I sighed and eased my way back into the basket chair. So here I was at the legendary home of a legendary man in a feeble attempt to escape the endless string of life. What had I gained? Nothing. The only difference between now and a half hour ago were my surroundings. My eyes scanned the room; the walls were covered with shelves filled with books on chemistry, mathematics, crime records and maps. Mrs. Hudson was right to warn me, every surface (sometimes even including the floor) was piled with paper, documents and boxes. I walked over to what I thought to be his desk. With a goal of getting to know the Great Detective in mind, I shuffled through his papers, and found one interesting note written in code.  
  
Nzdspgu,  
  
Ibwf zpv boz qspcmfnt jo xijdi J nbz cf pg tfswjdf?  
  
Zpus Cspuifs,  
  
Tifsmpdl  
  
At the sight of this I was puzzled, it appeared to be a previously sent telegram. I searched the note for some hint as to the key, and after a few minutes I found it. I practically hit myself for my stupidity. If I assumed that each letter stood for another letter (which because it was in the form of a note made sense) than the capitalized J meant that he was using a one letter word, that in order to be grammatically correct needed to be capitalized, in other words J stood for I. I looked at the relation ship between the two letters. J was one more letter than I. I used this key and found the letter to read:  
  
Mycroft,  
  
Have you any problems in which I may be of service?  
  
Your brother,  
  
Sherlock  
  
Well I thought, Watson had not mentioned that Holmes had a brother. Unfortunately this was the only new information achieved by the telegraph but my mind had enjoyed the challenge. I heard the in-mistakable rattle of cup and saucer and quickly tossed the envelope one the desk as the door opened to reveal Mrs. Hudson, arms full of trays, biscuits, muffins, cookies, sugar and tea. Holmes had definitely predicted correctly. She laid all the tea things out on a tray.  
  
"Here you are dearie, I'm sure Mr. Holmes will arrive any minute now." She answered reassuringly.  
  
"Mmm" I said as I took a sip of my tea. I laid the cup on the saucer and replied. "I am sure you are right, in fact I believe he has arrived now." I had heard the clatter of footsteps up the stars and no sooner had they ceased that the door was once again opened to reveal the tall man I had seen not an hour before. "Holmes what a pleasure you could join us, would you care for some tea?"  
  
Holmes sat down in the seat across from mine and fixed a cup for himself. Mrs. Hudson walked over to the door with a,  
  
"I'll let the two of you get down to business then." And she was off.  
  
We sipped our tea in silence for a few minutes. As a jest toward conversation I started.  
  
" Two minds of with our," I paused searching for the right word, " Skills are easily prone to boredom are they not?"  
  
"Our?" He acted as if he had just been compared to a rat. "I believe you are making a vast assumption with little to no data on your part, which proves your theory wrong, as I would never-"  
  
I stood up furious. He had a reputation for his ego but I never believed it would make him blind to the blatantly obvious.  
  
"Assume anything?" I finished for him. "Unless I am much mistaken, did you not say a mere three weeks ago you thought I could not 'fully comprehend' what you were about to say? I understood you quite well then and I would believe that from what you yourself witnessed you would have come to the same conclusion as I. Or perhaps I was wrong? Perhaps the legendary detective is not all he is brought up to be, perhaps he is so slow as not to realize the evidence of intelligence in anyone but himself."  
  
The reaction I received from him was immensely rewarding. It was as if I had slapped him in the face. I sat down and did not even attempt to hide the smile that eased onto my lips. There was the rattle of carriage wheels outside the residence and I walked over to the window to witness the familiar Inspector walk up the steps and knock on the door.  
  
"It appears we have a case." I stated.  
  
As Holmes opened his mouth the door flew open and Lestrade walked in.  
  
I turned my eyes away from the infuriated Detective. "Inspector Lestrade, a pleasure to see you again." I purred. Holmes was absolutely fuming. "What case has left the Yard puzzled?"  
  
Lestrade's eyes jerked from me the Holmes. "Why Miss Raines," With one last frightened glance of Holmes. "Is this a bad time?"  
  
"No proceed." Were the only words muttered by the Great Detective.  
  
Unknown to me this was to become one of the biggest adventures of my life.  
  
A/N: Please REVIEW!!!! 


	7. The Scene of the Crime

Chapter 7!!!! Reviewers THANK YOU!!!!!!!  
  
Aurora Magician: Yes I know it was cruel to leave you like that, but I am updating now aren't I? I am very glad you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope you like this one just as much!  
  
March Hare: You have NO idea how you readers feel when you leave us with a cliffhanger. *Brings out boxes of Chocolates kneels and begs* Please, Please, Please update BST!!!! But I am glad you liked the chapter and I will try to make this one longer.  
  
Oh, and to clear up where Watson is, yes he is married but he will come into the story eventually I promise!!!  
  
Disclaimer: Stuff belongs to ACD  
  
No Mere Victorian Woman  
  
Lestrade sighed, "Very well then, there has been a murder. The man was a Henry Farthing, an accountant. The Yard has confirmed that he returned to his flat at approximately ten PM last evening, but there are little to no clues and-"  
  
"Who found the body?" Holmes questioned.  
  
"The manager, a Miss Grodsmith."  
  
"And after she immediately went to the Yard?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"If you will give me the address?"  
  
"I have a four-wheeler waiting outside to take us back, Miss Raines if you will excuse us?"  
  
"No need." I answered, "I am coming with you."  
  
"This is no place for a lady-"  
  
"It may be no place for the type of lady you have in mind, Inspector but I assure you I am not one of them."  
  
We walked down the steps and I had barely enough time to wave goodbye and a thank you to Mrs. Hudson before I climbed into the cab and found myself seated next to Lestrade and across from Holmes (who still eyed me with irritation).  
  
As we approached the flat I noticed, perhaps ten constables and Inspectors mulling about. I stepped out of the four-wheeler only to be examined by everyone.  
  
"Lestrade what are you doing bringing a lady to a murder scene, oh and I see you had to go crawling to Mr. Holmes, the armature."  
  
"Really Inspector Gregson, you ego is almost larger than Holmes's, and that is quite an accomplishment. And judging by the fact that you yourself are not investigating anything at the moment I would say that it's a pity your mind is not half that." I rebuked.  
  
I heard Holmes and Lestrade chuckle behind me.  
  
"Young lady, wait I know who you are, Miss. Raines, the actress, what are you doing here? And why? This is no place for a lady." I inwardly groaned. Why did I have to put up with this?  
  
"Quick one isn't he? And for your information Inspector Gregson I am here to investigate a murder."  
  
"Now Miss. Raines," This from Lestrade "I understood you were coming but I had heard nothing of you actually investigating anything."  
  
"Well then I am glad to have informed you, you can imagine how difficult it would be having constables and inspectors getting in my way, can't you?"  
  
I did not stand there long enough for them to protest but instead headed toward the building (carefully making sure I did not step on any type of evidence). I followed the trail of yard employees until I had found the door to the flat. No one was around; I figured they had cleared them out in anticipation of the arrival of Holmes.  
  
I had never seen a corps before, or in that case a real one. Dummies had been strewn back stage for the occasional murder mystery show but my eyes dreaded the sight of warm flesh. I scanned the walls and floor for any other clues but my mind knew all too well that the largest source of information would come from the untold stories of the victim. Slowly my eyes moved from his leather boots, worn from walking up to his frayed coat, and the horrifying but inevitable sight of his face. His blue eyes were frozen etched with fear, and the wall behind him I noticed was splattered with blood. I in took a small breath. I must admit after the first initial shock I simply forced myself to deal with it.  
  
At first look it appeared that Farthing had suffered from a gunshot wound through the temple, but in order to receive the full data I would need autopsy results. I heard a familiar voice at my shoulder.  
  
"Well, shall we proceed?"  
  
A/N: Chapter 7 done!!! Yeah!!!! Ok what do you think? Should I continue? Please Review!!!!!!  
  
~Russell 


	8. A Lack of Evidence

Chapter 8!!!! Okay, I have NOT given up on this story; it seems workload finally caught up to me and when I expected to spend hours working on the story something always came up! I am so sorry for any of the readers awaiting the update and apologize in advance for any more delays. Well here we go.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing  
  
No mere Victorian Woman  
  
The sun filtered in amidst the closed blinds, the room was musty and had the horrifying smell of human flesh, but with what seemed like the air of a veteran picking up a gun, Holmes stooped down, folding his lanky figure beneath him as he inched his face forward until the tip his crocked nose barley brushed the fibers of the cream carpet. His eyes darted from centimeter to centimeter, his mind making mental notes, I was sure, the angle of each strand of yarn, the color, description and most likely brand- name were all recorded in his filling system ready to be put to use when the time comes. He tilted his head up towards me as if in slight annoyance.  
  
"What are you doing, just standing there? Or is this all a little too advanced for your limited skills?"  
  
In a huff I kneeled down as well and studied my surroundings. It was times such as these where I eyed Holmes's pants with envy; I pilled my skirts around me and in an irritated state set to work. I followed his lead and was amazed with what my eyes revealed to me. There were sections of the carpet where the fibers were pushed in different directions from the general flow of the rug, these clearly illustrated footprints, which led to strides across the room. I shot a careful glance at Holmes in an attempt to decipher his exact methods. Truth to be told I had never considered doing anything of this sort although the idea appealed to me immensely. Puzzles and riddles, obscure ways of thinking and solving complex equations, I could imagine nothing better. In the midst of my thoughts I heard a familiar 'Ahh.'  
  
"What have you found?" I inquired eagerly  
  
"What do you make of this?" His question was straightforward but his eyes spoke for themselves, he was testing me. The evidence was presented in a small envelope, which seemed to contain a sort of dust. I peered inside. It could not be dust for two reasons, 1. What could you learn from dust? Mud or soil was another thing but dust? And 2. Why would Holmes give me dust and ask me what it is? Therefore whatever is in the packet must be different from what would be first perceived. I pinched the material and brought it up to my face. It was too flake-like to be dust. I finally smelt it and instantly knew it to be from a cigarette. I told him as much.  
  
"I would also like to add that I believe it is the precise type of cigarette most commonly purchased by the middle class, it's a common brand so I do not believe it will help us much" I felt content as I saw the disappointment flow back into, not his face he was far too impassive to let anything so obvious slip, but rather those two cloudy abysses through which the depths of that genius mind could be viewed.  
  
"Very good" he replied in a stern voice as uncurled his long fingers that seemed to miss nothing, toward the envelope. I placed it in his stained hands and turned my gaze once again to the unfortunate victim. I slipped my hand under his chin and tilted his head so that I could have a better view of the gunshot entrance. There was a small hole, as I had previously suspected, right at the temple. I thought about this for a second and then came to a confident conclusion. I took a few steps back and tried to picture the scene a few moments before his death. By the different footprints I found throughout the carpet I could imagine, that Farthing had his back to the murderer, the killer opened the door and grabbed his victim. I walked over to Farthing, yes there was a red rash that encircled his neck, he was strangled most likely with the murderer's arm while the pistol was pressed against his head, and then, well the rest is history.  
  
At that moment the door burst open to reveal a mustachioed man carrying a doctor's black handbag, there was no question as to his identity.  
  
"Holmes! I dropped in for a visit when Mrs. Hudson informed me that you were out," He was obviously utterly oblivious as to my presence as he continued, "I came as soon as I heard! Is there anything I can do?"  
  
"Why Watson, you could start by examining the body." Holmes stated, but as Watson started to move toward Farthing, he noticed me.  
  
"Hello miss." He said, every word filled with sincerity, however I couldn't help but notice that immediately after the words were uttered he crept over to Holmes and whispered, rather loudly  
  
"Holmes, surly this is no place for a lady." That was the third time in the last hour I had heard that phrase and I must admit that I had had enough.  
  
"Dr. Watson, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last, especially as you have had such a full schedule this week, what with Mrs. Dolling, with the broken leg and Mr. Goling with the stroke two days ago, I cannot imagine how you are not struck with exhaustion."  
  
"Well yes, I have been working hard, and-" the full context of my words hit with a rush, and to my surprise, a deep chuckle erupted from his throat. "Why Holmes, she is just like you!"  
  
This upset Holmes to no end.  
  
"I will not be compared to that, that, Woman" he emphasized the last word with evident contempt and loathing. To my surprise I said nothing, I simply stared at him, but I was sure that my glare said more then could ever be formed into words.  
  
"Why Watson, I believe I am familiar with a few of your stories," I began, I had started on this thread of conversation with an ideal goal in mind, one that I would not let be faltered by either Holmes or Watson, but just as I had predicted Watson grabbed hold to this familiar and lovable territory of his with such admiration and excitement that he resembled a puppy eager for an owners praise.  
  
"Why have you?" he stated with glee. "And tell me what did you think of them?" I shot a purposeful glance in Holmes's direction but he paid me no notice, he reaction towards me was as if I was an odd piece of data he desired to be overlooked for it proved contrary to his entire theory, which ironically I suppose was precisely what I was. This reaction only heightened my incentive and I continued with all the disgust I had mustered for this egotistical, self-centered, and outright conceited man.  
  
"Watson, I fail to understand how your Holmes in your stories has any resemblance whatsoever to the genuine person, if anything you seem to share more of the prized characteristics of this fictitious man than the living and breathing human, you already have grasped and understood things that seem to be a bit out of his reach." I simply smiled as Holmes shot me a malevolent glare. Watson simply stood there still trying to comprehend what I had just said, and then once I saw recognition fill his eyes, two types of recognitions to be more specific, one he fully understood my meaning and secondly he understood that this was a very dangerous subject, and one that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with. I turned from Watson slowly to spy Holmes hunched over the carpet a pair of tweezers in one hand and a small manila envelope in the other, he removed a small hair from the floor and placed it with the rest of the evidence, in the envelope and in his pocket.  
  
"You know Watson," his reluctance to notice my existence was not lost on me. "I do believe that this is the most frustrated I have been with the Yard in all my years in their alliance. Almost all the evidence I can find seems to be constable footprints, constable hair, I would be willing to wager that even the ashes from the cigarette came from some constables lack of consideration and judgment." I scanned the room, and it occurred to me that he was right. The mud tracked in were obviously from a pair of boots that I had seen on the officers as we entered the building, the hair I had seen moments before in Holmes's hand had indeed been the same color as one of the men on duty, my shoulders sagged with disappointment and disgust for the people who guarded our law.  
  
Holmes continued his search for another thirty minutes, each minute creating more frustration and aggravation, each minute another line of disappointment etched into that face. That face, there was something about it that I began to realize in those few minutes, the longer I seemed to watch it the harder it seemed for me to tear it from my gaze. I heard a soft cough behind me.  
  
"Holmes-" Watson cut off.  
  
"Another minute, just one more" Holmes uttered under his breath "there must be something, I just haven't found it yet,"  
  
"Holmes we've been here nearly two hours, its time to go." And so we hustled into a cab and were off back again to the world-renowned 221b Baker Street hardly any wiser, and a great deal more dissatisfied then when we had left.  
  
A/N: I once again must apologize for my lack of speed in updating!! I hope to get another chapter up before this weekend in over so keep checking, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!! AND PLEASE REVIEW!!!! THX!!!! 


	9. An Unsuspected Suspect

I'm back and first of all would like to thank one of my reviewers!!!  
  
Black Rose25: Thank you!!! I am highly complimented!!! Oh and btw I believe you can find The Beekeepers Apprentice in most Libraries or bookstores, if it helps the author is Laurie R. King, and once you finish Beekeeper (which is I believe one of the best books I have read!!! I love it!!!) She has written five other books in the series so if you like Beekeeper you'll love those!! Ha, I am also part of the group of lowlife known as freshmen!!! Oh and I do agree that, considering you don't own a car yet (Hey I cant even DRIVE yet!!!) a cross country trek from her couch to California would be just a LITTLE out of your way so I am UPDATING!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I have never, or ever claimed to own anything; the majority of this pastiche belongs to the ACD estate.  
  
Now on with Chapter 9 of.  
  
No Mere Victorian Woman  
  
The horse hooves slowed and finally ceased as we neared the apartment. Holmes opened the cab rather forcibly and in very frustrated state exited the cab. Watson followed but immediately turned around to help me down. I merely smiled and allowed him to help me. The entire ride back my mind had been racing, no criminal could erase any sign of evidence could they?  
  
I subconsciously followed Holmes and Watson up the steps and into the apartment, sat down and in the midst of my lengthy and baffled train of thought heard Watson ask Mrs. Hudson for a dinner. In front of me, Holmes paced back and forth by the fire. It had been already four o'clock when I had first set out to meet Holmes, now it was nearly eight and long since had the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. I expected to head home shortly but questions still plagued my mind, Could the Yard really be that careless? Was all the blame to lie on their shoulders or was there any evidence to begin with? The entire case hindered on this question, was the Yard simply incautious or were we dealing with a criminal mastermind? I wished with all my heart that the answer was the former, when I entered into 221b earlier, was it only this afternoon? it seemed as if days had passed, I had come in want of a puzzle not a full time career. I was aware however that Holmes would most likely want me to leave, and let him return to his familiar life but I never was the type of person to leave anything uncompleted and I was not about to start now.  
  
"I'm sorry, this must sound terribly rude, but I do not believe I have learned your name yet," questioned a slightly embarrassed Watson behind me. It was then that it occurred to me that we had never really been properly introduced and I chuckled, having never needed to be introduced to him the thought of him not knowing my identity had never occurred to me.  
  
"Oh I'm sorry, my name is Rachel Raines-" Watson followed with the predictable and inevitable question.  
  
"You mean the actress?"  
  
"Do you know of another Raines that lives in this area?" I stated sarcastically  
  
"Well then Miss. Raines, would you care to join us for dinner?" inquired Watson. I had a feeling that Holmes had taken no part in this decision but I accepted anyway.  
  
"Thank you that sounds wonderful" I replied to the low rumble of my stomach in agreement. So I followed Watson to the kitchen to find a lovely dinner already placed on the table. To my shock however, Holmes showed no sign of surprise that I was joining them, perhaps I considered, he was still in denial of my existence. I sat down pleasantly and we started to eat. Holmes spoke pleasantly, even to me throughout the meal but I could tell that the strains of the case still bore heavily on him; he ate practically nothing but rather moved the food around his plate in the illusion of eating.  
  
It was somewhere in the midst of conversation that I realized something we had overlooked while at the apartment of Mr. Farthing, or rather what used to be the apartment of Mr. Farthing, he would not have much use for it in his present state. Everyone had already finished their meal, or in Holmes's case appeared to have and Holmes and Watson were amicably speaking about one case or another when I spoke,  
  
"Holmes!"  
  
"I am not usually one to stand being interrupted Miss. Raines." He replied coolly.  
  
"Well I believe you will have to stand it this time Holmes because I believe I have just solved, or at least solved one part of this case."  
  
"Impossible," Replied Holmes "I have gone over the evidence in my mind hundreds of times and I have found nothing."  
  
"Well, that proves it then, if the great Holmes can find nothing than this case has no solution," I replied raising a very Holmesian eyebrow, "for one who claims to live by logic and deduction I must admit I am greatly disappointed."  
  
"Well," coughed a slightly disturbed Watson, "shall we take our coffee into the sitting room then, at least hear what she has to say Holmes, it couldn't hurt could it?"  
  
With a sigh Holmes replied "No, I suppose it couldn't, shall we go then?" and we walked back up to the sitting room, tray of tea in hand. Once everyone was situated, Watson sitting peacefully on the couch and Holmes, at the sight of him I nearly burst out laughing for he could not be any more reminiscent to the caricature of Watson's tales, seated in the basket chair, eyes closed, hands steepled patiently awaiting my account.  
  
"Holmes, you admit to two things, either the yard has been unusually careless, or the criminal has been exceedingly cautious, or perhaps a combination of the two, am I correct?" Holmes merely nodded.  
  
"Now then," I continued " for one I believe that it is physically impossible to commit a crime without leaving a fragment of evidence as I suppose you also think," I stated with a nod toward Holmes, but before I could finish my next line Holmes had realized what I was saying and cut me off.  
  
"You have a point, what if there was no third party in this case, there must be someone from within the Yard itself."  
  
"Exactly!" I replied, "There wouldn't be anything to find other than constable evidence because the constable committed the crime."  
  
"Are you trying to tell me," asked Watson, "That someone who works within Scotland Yard, most likely a constable himself committed a murder?"  
  
"Yes Watson, everything fits!" I said excitedly  
  
"Miss. Raines does have a point," stated Holmes "all the evidence we found were from constables, or at least someone with connections in Scotland Yard, that means we must investigate Scotland Yard!"  
  
"Good, now that that is settled the only question left is, how." I sighed  
  
"Yes," whispered Holmes through gritted teeth  
  
"Well, I don't quite see what the problem is, I mean I'm sure that if we talk to Lestrade he'll-" but before Watson could finish Holmes cut him off.  
  
"No Watson that is the problem, for all we know Lestrade could be part of this whole thing,"  
  
"Come now Holmes you don't seriously believe,"  
  
"Of course not Watson, but lets not doubt, that is after all what made us blind to the obvious in the first place." At this Holmes stood up and started to stir the glowing embers of the fire. "No," said Holmes, what we need is a way to sneak into the Yard without them knowing. Whoever is behind this in the Yard will not want us in there."  
  
"Oh, that's a brilliant idea," I said my voice full of sarcasm "Holmes you have been in the Yard enough, do you want to place everything on the hope that the criminal, whoever he is will not notice us? Especially because he has probably seen you in person before, and on top of that everyone in the Yard has had training to identify disguises, this isn't the street Holmes."  
  
"Well than, do you have a better idea?" He replied sternly.  
  
I thought for a moment and then responded, "in fact, I believe I do. What if we had a way to convince the person, whoever he is that we were somewhere else, in fact allow anyone that wanted to, to see is there."  
  
"And how do you plan on doing that?" Holmes inquired "Raines it is not as if we have doubles of ourselves running around London."  
  
"Maybe not for you, I stated, but you see I lied earlier, there is another Raines in London, my twin sister."  
  
The next two hours were blurred through my memory, Holmes argued about not being able to actually investigate the Yards paperwork, I argued how the plan was fool proof and that this was the best way, he argued some more about, what if I missed anything and how everything would be much better if he was part of the action, instead of just the diversion, but I being the type of person I am stood my ground and eventually, because my argument made the most sense and because the plan actually was fool proof, won.  
  
So it was late that night that I exited the doors of the legendary 221b Baker Street, on that moonless night, where the only sound was a soft breeze. The night was so pleasant, and my apartment was so nearby that I decide a midnight stroll was in order. I walked a couple of blocks until I noticed the distinct sounds of footsteps behind me.  
  
"Holmes," I chuckled "even you, cant sneak up on me."  
  
But when I turned around it wasn't Holmes I saw, or his voice I heard. On this dark night all I could make out was a tall dark figure, but although I was not able to see the person I was able to clearly hear the gun shot, before all went black. 


End file.
